Lady In Red
by The Nutty One
Summary: A dark haired stranger with an even darker past has been watching you for the past few weeks. When Damon approaches Elijah, an old flame, he makes his intentions towards you clear. Your aim? To play him, to tame him and to seduce him. Pwp Dominant Damon Previous Elijah/Damon Present Damon/You with a possibility of Elijah/Damon
1. Chapter 1

Lady in Red

The metal is cool against the palm of your hands. Without a second thought you hitch your leg up around the pole, lean back and let gravity do the rest of the work. You slide around the pole, one leg pointed expertly out at the leering crowds of men. Slowly you stand up again, your back arched away from the pole. Placing one foot slowly in front of the other, you circle the shiny metal pole, meeting the gaze of all the men closest to you.

This isn't you. Every time you step foot into this building you become someone else. A façade come over your face, hiding your real emotions and thoughts. You've been working here for one and a half years to help pay for your university fees. But you still haven't managed to detach yourself from what you do.

Flicking your hair over your shoulder, and the crowds around you go wild. You don't understand why. There are plenty of other women here that they could watch, that offer more services than what you do. Yet nobody watches them; most of the men choose to render their sights on you. Your hook both your legs around the pole, your red heels clicking together as you do. Murmurs come from the men closest to you. You know their thoughts; they wish you were with them and not in this club. But they only want you for your body. They don't know you. They only know you as the Lady in Red.

That's all you ever will be to them.

You scan the place, looking for the man that has visited over the past few weeks. He doesn't speak to you. He just observes from the high up balconies that give people the view from above. For a while you've come to expect him every night. You can sense when he's there. He has a dark aura about him; despite that, it draws you in. There's something, provocative and sexy about the way he watches you – the way his eyes follow your body, so different to the lecherous scrutiny of the rabbles at your feet.

Instead your eyes meet those of your manager. Elijah Mikaelson. He winks at you from the balcony. He's got a glass in his hand, scotch if you know his tastes – which you do. You've had an on and off relationship with him for the past few years. Fuck buddies; that's all you ever were. When he heard of your student loans he offered to pay them back and then some on one condition. He needed dances for the strip club. And you, apparently, fit the bill.

As you spin around the pole again, you meet his gaze for the second time. Only this time he's turned away from you and speaking to someone you recognise. The conversation looks pleasant. Elijah's fingers are gripping the glass lightly and he tips it back and for animatedly as he talks. Over the noise of the club, you imagine his smooth voice talking with the dark stranger. His voice is deadly yet luring. No one knows exactly what he's capable of doing. Elijah protects those in the club, and that includes you. Whatever this stranger wants, he's going to have to pay a high price.

The change in song brings you from your thoughts. Enrique's _Dirty Dancer _fills the club. The beats are heavy and beneath your heels you feel the stage vibrating. You change your dance to fit the music. Your moves speed up and your hips move from side to side, your body driving the men in front of you wild. You rub up against the pole and a pack of wolf whistles rise over the noise of the music. You reach both legs up on the pole and grip the top with your hands. Placing your left hand below your right, you swing yourself out, your muscles straining and your body slicing through the air. The men stop whistling, too awe struck at the sight of your curved body. The lights of the club reflect from your body, casting you into darkness while highlighting other areas.

**Lady in Red**

"You've been watching her for a long time. I've never known you to wait this long." Elijah's voice lacks emotion, as cold as steel on an assassin's blade. Elijah stands beside Damon, one hand clutching a cut crystal glass. Damon knows the posture all too well. He's aware of the power behind that deceptively relaxed hold.

"The longer you wait the sweeter the prize." Damon smirks while he gently swirls the amber bourbon around in his glass. The music here is loud, the thudding beats beginning to hurt his ears. How can Elijah stand this? "And I'm enjoying the view." His hand rests on the top of the glass balcony. "Both views."

Elijah dips his head, not in embarrassment but in exasperation. "You know what we did is never going to happen again. We both needed it with no strings attached." He raises his gaze to meet Damon's. Elijah is a few inches shorter than Damon but it means nothing. "Don't change the subject, you were talking about her?"

Both vampires' turn their eyes towards the lower level of the club. Damon immediately finds the object of his obsession. Her body is lithe and athletic, her muscles straining as she moves to the music. Never will he be able to let her go. Not until her body and blood is his. "What will it take? For me to have one night?"

"With me it will take nothing, because it won't happen again. With her, I'll speak to her. She's sensed you here before. Her body is already attuned to your presence. It shouldn't take much persuasion." Elijah takes a sip from his glass, as he does Damon can see the edges of his fangs beginning to extend. He's still affected by Damon.

"Talk to her. Make sure she agrees otherwise not even you will be able to stop me."

Elijah turns his gaze towards Damon. His eyes are distant, remembering a long ago buried memory. "Don't be so quick to say your words. You regretted it last time." His gaze becomes focuses once more. "And you might regret it again this time too." In the blink of an eye, Elijah is gone. The only reminder that he was ever there in the first place is the scent of age old pine and expensive clothing.

Damon speaks to himself, his voice quiet beneath the beats of the music. "If it ends the same way it did last time, then I'll eagerly await it."

**Lady in Red**

Your heels land on the stage with a click and you glance up to the balcony once more. Elijah has disappeared but the dark stranger is looking down one you. Sudden realisation strikes you and you almost tumble in your heels. It's the man that has visited for the last few days. His dark hair falls into his eyes but his face is cast in shadows. His posture is casual as he leans against the glass. A leather jacket and ripped jeans, all designer, hint at a rich background.

Maybe he was a friend of Elijah's?

You'd never know… You've stood and looked long enough, long enough to make the crowds start to fidget and move on to other dancers. Before you can hitch your leg around the pole, someone clears their throat behind you. You know that sound too well. You turn to face Elijah and square your shoulders as you do. He's not going to push you around today.

Elijah raises a pale hand to help you off the stage. As he does, the sleeve of his navy blue suit pulls back to reveal a three-hundred thousand dollar Audemars Piguet. You take his cool hand and step gracefully from the stage. Flashing disco lights cast Elijah's face into darkness and light and the steam machines cast a smoky fog around your ankles as you walk. For a moment you can see what other people see when they come to watch you.

The stage isn't that high, you're easily within groping distance but there are bounces placed at regular intervals throughout the club. There's a strict no touch policy…unless they pay high. The stage is made of thickened glass with lights flashing around the edges. Four poles rise up from the glass and three of them are occupied by other women.

Despite the loud music, you can hear Elijah's ever word as he speaks. "I know you don't usually do this…" He pauses as if to think. You're not fooled. Elijah always knows what to say no matter the situation. "But someone is interested in you. He's a _friend_ of mine." The way he says friend doesn't sit well with you. It's the way you would say it if you were covering something up.

"Elijah, I'm not fooled by your words. I want to know exactly who it is I'm dealing with, and what he wants from me." You move to the side as a bearded man reaches a hand out towards you.

A growl rips from deep within his chest as someone attempts to reach out to you. Immediately the man flinches and pulls his hand away. Elijah smiles at him, though you know it's a warning. A moment passes and Elijah passes you his jacket and rests it over your shoulders.

"Damon Salvatore." You've heard that name before but you've never seen him. Was he the one that was watching you? "He's well known in my world." _Ahh, so he's a vampire then. _Being with Elijah has meant that you've learned a lot more about a vampire's world than what any average human would. "I can't tell you anymore about him, to do so would be to betray his minimum amount of trust in me. If he wishes to tell you more, then he can do. All I ask is that you listen to him." Elijah pauses for a moment and a look that you can't place comes over his face. "Damon's a gentleman – if that word exists still in this society. But there's another side to him. He needs someone experienced to tame that side of him. And he's seen you. You might have seen him watching you?"

Elijah's words seem to hint at something else. Has he been with Damon before? You wouldn't blame him. If you lived that long then you'd definitely want to try the other team too.

Elijah pushes open the two heavy double doors and holds them open for you. The lighting in the corridor is dim and many doors lead from it. It's such a step down from the light and noise of the main club. The walls are a plain cream and a red carpet lines the floor.

"You seem to be speaking from experience," you say as you continue to walk down the corridor. Elijah slows his pace to match yours. He raises an eyebrow at your statement. "What exactly does he want?"

"Everything you won't give anyone else in here."

"When?"

"Is tonight too soon?"

**Lady In Red**

So this is Salvatore; the man – a vampire – who has been watching you for the past few weeks. For the first time you get to see his face, finally unveiled by the shadows that seem to cling to him.

Dark eyes, darker than the darkest night sparkle with trapped stars. Pale lips are raised in a half smirk as his eyes comb over your body. His face is chiselled and a dusting of stubble grazes his chin. Salvatore's hair is jelled in a style that screams "fuck me. I've just had the best shag of my life." Even the strands of hair attempt to hide his face as they fall over his eyes.

He's a mystery. Just by his posture and aura alone you know he'll give nothing more away than what he needs to. Beneath that calm mask lies other thoughts; a need to possess and be possessed. Salvatore doesn't speak as you close the door behind yourself. Instead he gestures with his glass of bourbon to the nearest chair in front of him.

"So, Mr Salvatore –"

"Please, call me Damon." He chuckles to himself and rests the glass against his thigh. "Mr Salvatore reminds me of when I was human." Damon's eyes don't break from yours. His raven coloured eyes give nothing away. "Get yourself a drink if you wish. I'd much prefer it if we were both relaxed."

You shake your head a little to clear your thoughts. And it has nothing to do with those come to bed eyes or that smirk… "I'd don't drink on the job."

"I'd hardly class this as a job." Damon leans forwards and his elbows rest on his knees. In his hands he grips the glass tightly. "Face it," he gestures to his own body. "You could do a lot worse in life." He leans back silently.

For the first time, you allow your eyes to travel the length of his body. Broad shoulders are encased within a leather jacket – Italian origin. A black shirt is beneath the jacket, fitted to show his body. The top few buttons are open, allowing your gaze to see the hairless plains of his upper chest and pale throat. Damon's black jeans are riding low on his hips and the silver buckle of his belt gleams in the low light.

"I suppose I could," you say, your voice lacking interest. Elijah has told you about this. Damon loves the chase, he loves pursuing, and the harder the chase the more exhilarating the prize. "Why me?"

Damon raises an eyebrow and he gazes around the room. He studies an oil painting he speaks. "You know my kind through Elijah. I can smell his scent still lingering on you. And it saves the whole "_OMG got a vampire in the room with me!"_ shit that humans tend to go through. And, I like what I see. And what I like, I tend to keep."

The fact that he can still smell Elijah doesn't surprise you. Vampires; are the powers unlimited? It's been months since you were with Elijah in any sort of romantic way. But his words, the possessiveness of them, are what gives you the thrill. Damon's a player – you knew that straight away. And he's an arrogant, cocky, egotistical bastard; so different from all your other conquests.

"Who says you're going to keep me? Elijah won't allow it. And he's stronger than you, there's nothing you can do."

Almost unconsciously Damon's hand goes down the caress his left hip when you mention Elijah. A scar? A token of Elijah's dominance? It proves your theory that they were once together… "I know he won't. But there's also a thrill in being the one chased. And it is possible to out run an Original. So long as you know where to go…" Damon laughs to himself and his gaze settles back on you.

While you mull over his words, you take in the room around you. Two lamps cast the room in a dim light and the fire place in the centre causes the flickering shadows across both your faces. The logs on it crackle and heat embers float from the flames onto the cold slate in front of them. The embers sizzle and die. A stag's head is mounted above the fire place, its lifeless eyes stare unseeingly across the room. Damon is seated in a wooden arm chair, the red of its seat and back rest contrasting with his black clothing. He looks so relaxed, as if he's been there all his life…

"You seem like you're used to running?" You goad him, hoping he'll show some form of emotion towards you besides the chuckles and all-knowing smirks.

He drinks the last drops of bourbon before he answers. "Imagine that you've pissed off an Original by leaving him the next day with only a letter to say goodbye. Imagine then how fast you'd wish to run… Of cause, I didn't run. I walked. I walked with my head held high until he caught up with me and threw me to the ground… I'll let your imagination do the rest." Damon winked, and he lets his legs relax and fall open. You get a full view of the hardness that his jeans cover.

You unconsciously wet your lips at the sight of his arousal. "Elijah? By any chance?"

"Do you honestly think he'd get one of his impeccable suits dirty? It was his younger brother. He's a feisty thing and a kinky shit in bed too."

"I never thought you'd be submissive."

"Sometimes it's nice for the hunter to become the hunted."

At his words you're abruptly reminded of your task at hand. Play him. Tame him. Seduce him. Without saying anything, you shrug Elijah's jacket from your shoulders. You're still in your work gear, the gear that got you the name "Lady in Red." Your breasts are full and voluptuous, straining against the red lazy bra you wear. The front of your red lace frenchies is wet with your desire, just enough for Damon to see.

Damon's eyes widen despite his effort to control his facial expression. His eyes are glued to the curves of your body. The sparkle in his eyes in emphasised when the fire flickers brightly. He moves in his seat, suddenly sitting up straighter. His right hand rests on his thigh his fingers, unconsciously splayed towards his erection. As Damon's eyes settle on the slight wet patch on your frenchies, you can feel the desire within you welling up.

"Come and get me, Mr Salvatore."

**Hey up, hope you enjoyed reading! There were mixed reviews on Sometimes Dreams Come True; some for rough and ready and others for sensual and comforting. So I've decided to do both. This is the rough and ready and the other will be posted on Sometimes Dreams Do Come True. If you have any suggestions for what you want in Lady In Red, please mention these in your review and I'll try to fit them in! :D**

**Thanks for reading, please review! :D xx**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"_Sometimes it's nice for the hunter to become the hunted." _

_ At his words you're abruptly reminded of your task at hand. Play him. Tame him. Seduce him. Without saying anything, you shrug Elijah's jacket from your shoulders. You're still in your work gear, the gear that got you the name "Lady in Red." Your breasts are full and voluptuous, straining against the red lacy bra you wear. The front of your red lace frenchies is wet with your desire, just enough for Damon to see. _

_ Damon's eyes widen despite his effort to control his facial expression. His eyes are glued to the curves of your body. The sparkle in his eyes in emphasised when the fire flickers brightly. He moves in his seat, suddenly sitting up straighter. His right hand rests on his thigh his fingers, unconsciously splayed towards his erection. As Damon's eyes settle on the slight wet patch on your frenchies, you can feel the desire within you welling up. _

_ "Come and get me, Mr Salvatore."_

You move towards him, one elegant leg in front of the other. With every movement your hips sway from side to side. When you're close to him, you place on finger beneath his chin. The stubble along his chin is rough against your touch. Your eyes seek his as you bend closer for a kiss. It's chaste but holds more or what is to come.

Damon's hands come up to grab your hips and with one rough move you're on his lap. Through your thin frenchies you can feel his hardened desire. "I'm a vampire," his voice is low and demanding. "I don't 'come and get' anyone." Damon's hands come up to clutch your breasts roughly. One hand slips behind your body and with an easy twist of his hand, your bra falls into his lap. "And you're all mine." The possessive tone of his voice makes heat spread through your thighs. You're all his, all his to do what he wants with.

Winking at him, you roll your hips over his hardness. Beneath you Damon hisses between clenched teeth. "Or are you, all mine?" your words echo his. Damon chuckles to himself at your defiance

"I guess we'll have to find that out. Now do what you're well known for. I want you to ride me. I want your soaking panties presses hard against my jeans."

You sit lightly in his lap, your ass just grazing his jeans. With a feather light touch, you run your ass over his crotch. Back and forth, slowly, teasingly. When Damon's hands tighten on your hips, you bat them away. "No touching. It's house rules." Damon throws his head back in frustration but he moves his hands away. They clench at the armrests of his chair.

Finally you allow yourself to sit fully on his lap. Again you roll your hips, watching in fascination as the vampire in front of you slowly loses control. His head is thrown back, his eyes are shut and his lips are parted in ecstasy. "You're so good, my little whore - just for me, only for my pleasure." Again you swivel on his lap, needing the friction yourself. With every move you feel your wetness against your frenchies. You've never being this wet before.

"Tell me what you want. Tell me everything you're going to do to me." Damon moans at your words and you imagine his conjuring up all sorts of images. As he thinks, you lean forward to push your breasts into his face. As you do, you rock your hips back and forth, grinding down on his erection. Damon moans as he buries his face between you breasts. The rough stubble on his chin is a contrast to the soft feeling of his hair. Before you can move back, he takes one nipple into his mouth.

As he speaks, his teeth close around your nipple. He moves his lips over it, punishing it between his teeth, Short bursts of pain make you gasp before he soothes away the hurt with his tongue.

"I'm going to fuck your mouth. So hard you'll gag and attempt to ask me to stop. But I won't let you. My hands will grip your hair, pushing your head back and forth." The mixture of his words and his mouth on your breasts makes your desire ignite. You've never felt this way with anyone but Elijah. You rock again against his erection, needing more contact.

Out of your eye corner you see Damon's hands tighten on the chair. The wood splinters beneath his touch and his knuckles are white. When he can take no more his hands grasp your hips in a bruising hold. Damon pushes you off his lap, and down onto the floor. There's a clank as he unfastens his belt and his cock springs free from the confines of his jeans.

"I want you to make my fantasy come true. Suck my cock, baby, Suck it like your love it." His words can't be truer. Just the sight of his cock, thick, hard and long is enough to make you moan. Just the thought of him inside you and fucking you until you cry out his name is enough to make your panties soaking. Mental images of all the positions you know fly through your mind.

Your eyes never leave Damon's as you lower your mouth to his cock. Through your hair you see his eyes focussed on yours. They're darker than before, clouded with lightning storms of lust and desire. The wet heat of your mouth easily takes his cock. Relaxing your mouth, you allow your tongue to glide and tease the slit. You hear the wood beneath Damon's hands splinter more. Hollowing your cheeks, you take his cock in deeper as you ghost your tongue over the underside of his cock. You let yourself explore every ridge and every taste. Damon's like nothing you've ever tasted before. He's everything you've ever needed.

"That's it baby, suck me hard. I want to come down your throat and feel you swallow every last bit of my essence." His speech is low and stuttered but commanding and possessive. Damon's breathing is hitched and shallow, and eventually the wood gives way in his hand. Above you he growls in annoyance and he throws the wood over your shoulder. Behind you the fire cackles and throws shadows towards you. Those shadows dance over Damon's face, hiding the way his eyes sparkle and his parted lips.

His hops rise from the seat, forcing his cock further into your mouth. His hands fall from the broken chair to rest and entwine themselves in your hair. Damon's grip is tight and pain flares along your scalp. But you don't care: you're more into this than you have been for months. For all the months you've been away from Elijah, nothing can compare. Nothing until this moment.

"When I first saw you I never expected you to be so eager. You're so fucking eager for my cock in your mouth." The hitch in his speech happens when you run your teeth lightly up his cock. "It's all your baby." His hands tighten in your hair and you feel the hardening of his cock further. He's not going to last much longer. With a final suck of his cock, he comes down your throat. You swallow it all, and he moans as your throat constricts around him.

When you let his cock slip from your mouth, Damon begins to take his jeans off. As he loses his jeans, he takes his underwear off at the same time. After, he extends his hand out towards you. Taking it, you're surprised when he pulls you towards him. Your body thuds against his leather jacket. As you raise your hands, Damon guesses your intentions and pushes his leather jacket from his shoulders. Your hands fall uselessly onto his chest. As Damon pulls you towards him, you feel his hardened length once more. Vampire speed and recovery time – looks like it's good for other things too.

Suddenly the world blurs around you. The fire merges with its surroundings and you can hear nothing but the _whoosh _of air in your ears. Your body collides against the wall, the only stopping your head from hitting it is Damon's hands. His hands cover your body, absorbing the worst of the impact. His hands trail over and down your body, skimming past your breasts until they rest on your hip.

Damon doesn't wait to begin his exploration. His fingers search the wet folds of your labia, pushing your panties to one side for easier access. One finger presses against your clit and your knees go weak. Only Damon's body is holding you up. "Look at you," Damon mutters, his voice awed. "Just one touch from me and you're weak at the knees. You're so horny for me, aren't you? Do you want me to fuck you?" His fingers slip into your wetness, curling against your sweet spot. Your nerves are alight with fire, and your hips move slowly against his hand.

"Yes, Damon! Please, against the wall. I want it rough and hard," you pant. Your breasts heave with the effort, pushing up towards him, aching for his caress.

You whimper as he takes his fingers from you. "Hitch your legs around my waist." God, this is it. He really is going to fuck you against a wall. You've done many things with Elijah but this isn't one of them. Damon's voice is like bark and velvet, rough yet smooth and hiding all true emotions. You do as you're told. Your legs secure around his waist locking them at the ankles. Your hands grip at his black shirt while his hands rest on your ass. Damon's hands are rough from use and the callouses are rough against the smooth skin of your buttocks.

You can feel the length of his cock against your pussy. You're not worried about condoms. Vampires can't get you pregnant. Instead you let your worries float away and focus on the feeling of Damon's cock sliding against your pussy. Only with one person have you been this wet before. "Just fuck me!"

"Patience is a virtue," Damon whispers against your ear but he slides into you anyway. His cock is wide and fills you in every place. You gasp as he goes deeper before letting you get accustomed to him. "But thankfully, I don't have that one either." Seconds later he lifts you and slams you back down onto his cock.

"Ugh, fuck. God, Damon. Your cock goes so deep." Your nails scratch him through the fabric of his shirt and heal within moments. His hips are rough against your and the slapping of skin fills the room. Your back constantly hits the wall, causing pictures to shake. The bruising hold on your ass causes fresh pain but you don't care. Pleasure sweeps over you at his every touch, chasing away any remnants of pain.

The fire roars behind Damon, casting heat and flames towards you. The heat from it is nothing compared to what you feel in your core. You can feel yourself riding towards an orgasm, Damon's cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. Again and again you're pulled to the point of no return. The closer you get to it the more shallow your breathing becomes and the more breathless moans escape both of you.

"Oh fuck! Damon!" You cry as your orgasm crashes over you. It knocks all thoughts from you and the rest of your words are an incoherent mess. Damon's not too better. His fangs are descended and the vampire within him threatens to take over. He comes inside you as your muscles contract around him. Damon's hands clutch harder at your ass while your hands threaten to tear through the fabric of his shirt.

Minutes later and Damon slowly helps you to lower your legs. Your legs are shaking as you step away from him with one hand braced against the wall. "Fucking hell; that even rivals Elijah." You say but your words cause Damon to stiffen.

Again it brings to your mind the thoughts of those two together. Is Damon still grieving for the loss, or did they part as enemies? As Damon pulls away from you, you spot a small cluster of scars on his left hip. The same hip he unconsciously touched when you mentioned Elijah earlier. There are about five bites, all entwined and silver against the fire light. Elijah has a few bites over his body from battles but they're spread out. Not clustered together. Damon's scars look meaningful, as if they were purposely placed there.

Damon looks to have noticed that you're staring. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. He's going to wait until you've finished studying him. Instead, he reaches down to pull on his boxers and jeans, and only the sound of the zipper being fastened brings you from your thoughts.

"You've got a scar. On your left hip," you explain as you pick your red bra from the floor. Fixing it in place, you do the clasp before you speak again. "Vampires don't scar easy."

"Thanks for telling me that," Damon says sarcastically. "I'll make sure to avoid it next time."

You shoot his a death glare (not that it would have much effect) but you continue to quiz him. "Has it got a purpose? It looks like it does."

Damon sits down in the nearest chair (the chair that no long has arms) and relaxes back in front of the fireplace. He reaches for the bottle of bourbon and pours himself another drink. He drinks half before he answers you. "It's a display of dominance and owner ship." He states. You never noticed before but he has Elijah's jacket over his right arm.

"Who from, and why?" At Damon's gesture, you wrap his leather jacket around your shoulders. You take the seat opposite you. Part of you is thankful for the break, knowing that your legs could give out at any time.

"You really are nosy, aren't you?" His tone is emotionless and you can't tell whether he's being serious or joking. "It doesn't matter who I got it from. Dominance marks show possession of someone or something. They're normally given between lovers as a sign of wellbeing and protection – to warning to all others." His eyes seem to glaze over as memories take him. You're used to this. It used to happen to Elijah.

While Damon is lost in a trance, you mull over his words. So Damon used to love someone, still does because he appears to be covering something up. The more you think about it, the more you're certain it's Elijah. He's the only other vampire you know who could possibly be stronger than Damon. Or could it be the other vampire that Damon mentioned? The one he left? But if he left then that vampire couldn't have been more than a one night stand or a quick fling.

"Can any vampire give you them?"

"No, only when there are feelings on both sides. Other than that, there will be a faint outline of a bite, but it isn't the same." Damon shakes himself from the memories and stands from the chair. "Have you got some clothes to change into? I don't fancy you catching your death out there."

You nod and your gaze lingers on Elijah's jacket. Why is he holding it so tightly?

**Lady in Red**

Her questioning had brought back memories of his time with Elijah. No matter what Damon did, he couldn't forget the others smooth voice, the touch of his hands or the feel of his body. Every time he thought of the elder vampire, he felt the tingling through the dominance mark.

It had been years since he'd been with Elijah. 50 years since Elijah told him it wouldn't work. He'd left Damon with no reason and no explanation. But Damon had seen the desperation in the other's eyes. Beneath the cold voice there was a hint of worry or protectiveness – Damon couldn't decide which. But no matter what it was, he could have still told Damon. Even if Elijah had told him it had all been a fling; that would have been easier to cope with.

Seeing him tonight had only rekindled long ago buried feelings. Beneath the indifference he could sense Elijah's need for him. The fact that he had nearly let his fangs slip was proof enough that the vampire within him felt the need to claim Damon. All he had to do was break down the barriers. Which hopefully shouldn't take much effort unless Elijah left the country…it would take years for Damon to track him if that happened.

But now he had the perfect excuse to see him. The jacket slung over his arm. He could just make out that he was returning it to Elijah. And when Elijah smelt the woman's scent on his skin his vampire would go wild. Only with the up most control would Elijah be able to resist.

**Lady in Red**

The wind blew around him, barely disturbing him. Around him all sounds nature stopped, it always does. It can sense the death that surrounds him. From the top of the building he can see the woman and the vampire leaving. The vampire within Elijah aches with the need to claim its submissive. How he has lasted this long, especially allowing Damon to be with the woman, is a mystery. Even to Elijah.

50 years ago he broke away from Damon. He had to. He needed to. If anyone found out his weakness then they would target it. Only now he has two; both Damon and the woman. If he lets them both go together, then maybe they will forget about him. Then he'll have neither as a weakness.

But someone has. Elijah's hand clutches at the small piece of card. It's crumpled from the amount of times he has clutched at it, screwed it up, reread it and hidden it away from himself. But he always goes back. Each time he looks at it with a tiny ray of hope that he has imagined the words that have been elegantly scrawled onto it.

They never change. They're always the same.

They taunt him, reminding him of the things he can't have. Of all the things he has had to give up. Even an original has his limits.

Elijah lets the card fall from his grasp. The wind snatches it away from him, eagerly accepting it into its clutches. The card sails away on the wind; a single white speck against the endless darkness. Even with a vampire's eyesight, the card is gone within moments. If only all things could be so easily lost.

No matter what he does, no matter what he tries, Damon will always be in danger. And now the woman will be too. Despite his best efforts to not be seen with her in public, or to have their relationship appear more than just employer and employee, someone has worked it out. Or more to the point – his brother has worked it out.

His brother was the one who Damon left that night. Damon had used Elijah's own brother in a hope to forget about him. When it hadn't worked he'd left before the next morning with a simple letter explaining that he'd left. But Elijah's brother hadn't given up. He'd hunted Damon, pushed him to the floor while Elijah watched on, barely managing to restrain the vampire within himself. As his brother attempted to mark Damon (over Elijah's own dominance mark) Elijah had left. He couldn't watch that.

And by the way Damon was acting, it was clear he still only wore one dominance mark. And that was Elijah's.

Elijah shook himself from his thoughts. It always happened when he thought too much about Damon. It was the only way to soothe the vampire within him. The fond memories of rough, vicious sex where neither held back. God, how he missed it.

But now those words taunted him.

_Watch out, Brother. Or watch out for the two you love. By the end of the month, they'll be mine. Stay away; it might lessen your suffering as I take them. _

So he had to stay away from Damon. It was the only way.

**Hey up, hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Sorry if some of the characters appear a bit OOC. And the "you" character will only be refferered to as "the woman" or something similar as she doesn't have a name. Well, she does, but it's supposed to appear as if you're the one in the story. And I don't know all your names haha. Hope you don't mind that!**

**Thanks to Bella Phoenix MAC for your ideas! **

**I'd love to know your thoughts on the story and where you think it's going to lead to, so if you could include these in your review (if you want to that is) I would be grateful! Thanks for all your reviews and thanks for reading! Please review! :D xx**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Once she was settled, Damon left her to her own devices. She knew where the bourbon was, where the food was (albeit it was minimum, she'd have to go shopping at some point) and most importantly, where his bed was. The fire crackled in the living room, throwing heat into the wide expanse of space. That's all it was. Space. He could fill it with everything he wanted but that was all it would ever be, space. It might be cluttered space, but it was space nonetheless.

But it wouldn't be space if he had the two of them. It might actually come to mean something if he had both of them.

_Fucking hell, man! Thinking about actions isn't good in the long run! Face it, planned sex is never as good as surprise sex. _Damon shook his head in frustration. Thinking never got him anywhere. He was more spontaneous. Like a bomb. Or a microwave; you could set a timer but you'd never know the precise time it was going to blow up. But at this point in time, everything was building up. There was a tightening in his chest; not emotion (a callous bastard has none) but something else. Something he couldn't put his finger on.

And it had gotten worse since he'd visited Elijah. And the more he thought about the Original, the more the dominance mark began to make its self-known.

Damon's hand unconsciously drifted down to the mark on his left him. Ever since Klaus had tried to remark him it had been tender. Even now he could still feel the burn along his body from Elijah's heated gaze as he watched their coupling. Yes, he knew Elijah had been there. Had they ever spoken about it? No way.

As he had come to expect, the touch of his own hand on it made his gums ache with the need to release his fangs. What would it be like with Elijah's touch? Even with a vampire's memory Damon could only remember fractions of how it felt. The feeling it created was simply too much to remember.

For a split second he let the vampire within him free. Damon's eyes darkened and the veins in his face became darker. The scent of her blood, only a floor above him, called to him. But more than that was the need to see Elijah. Taking a deep breath, he reined the vampire back in. The intensity of his raven coloured eyes faded gradually as the vampire receded.

He wasn't used to being the one with the feelings. Usually it was the other person who developed them for him. Maybe this was karma for all the hearts he'd broken. If so, it was true what they said; karma is a bitch. A bitch who was PMS-ing. Who'd lost her tampons at the same time as the corner shop near her had run out of chocolate.

However, Damon wasn't the only one with feelings. He knew that, deep down, buried behind that wall of stone that surrounded his heart, that Elijah felt the same. But there was something stopping him from doing anything. So Damon would go to him. And he would force the Original to tell him, or to fuck him. One way or another, it should ease the strange tightening in his chest.

As he walked past the settee, Damon grabbed Elijah's navy blue jacket. And now he had the perfect excuse to meet with the Original. As he past the front door, Damon grabbed the car keys to his Chevy Camaro.

No way was he going to go running to Elijah…

**Lady In Red**

Damon allowed the car the drift to a stop in a layby on a deserted road. Grasping the jacket, he turned the engine off. A quick glance around him told him that he was alone. He wouldn't be for long. Soon enough the Original's curiosity would peak and Elijah would have to show himself.

Moving from the car, Damon stood in the middle of the road. He might be here for some time. In that case he might as well catch a Meal on Wheels. How stupid and gullible were humans though? They'd hit him, begin to cry, bend down next to him and in a matter of seconds be the ones with no blood in their body. Stupid, trusting humans. But they made easy meals.

He hadn't left the car for two minutes until a voice behind him called out; "Damon."

Damon turned slowly at the sound of the voice he knew all too well. Standing before him, hair unruffled by the harsh winds, his suit still impeccable but missing a jacket, was Elijah. Just at the sight of the Original, and sensing the waves of power seeping from him, made Damon slightly nervous. But he'd never been nervous before. Was it because the strange tightening in his chest had made him uneasy? He smirked at the vampire to cover up his feelings.

"Elijah," he stated offhandedly with a quirk nod of his head. Damon didn't bother to hold the jacket up to his attention. Why should he need an excuse? And Elijah had seen it anyway…when his eyes had clearly roamed over Damon's body with undisguised lust.

"Why are you here?" Damon didn't answer straight away. Instead he focused on himself while revelling in the way the tension melted away the longer Elijah continued to speak. Good God, he really did need the Original… "And we both know it's not to return my jacket."

"If that isn't a good enough reason then tell me one that is." Damon took a step forward with every word he said. "And if you can't do that; tell me why you avoid me."

"I can't tell you, Damon. It's for your own good." Elijah's voice was too calm, too callous and emotionless. It bore away at Damon's defences. He couldn't take any more of this shit! Not for the first time, Damon let his temper have free reign.

He pushed against Elijah's shoulders, sending the Original reeling backwards in shock. Almost immediately Damon was on top of him. If he got the upper hand now, when Elijah was in shock, he would be more likely to get the information he needed.

Elijah's head snapped to the side to avoid Damon's fist. He allowed the younger vampire to feel as if he had the upper hand. It would tire him sooner.

Around them the moon shone brightly and not even nature would dare to interrupt the growls the reverted from Damon. The mood light shone down on their prone figures, highlighting Damon's high cheek bones and the shadows across Elijah's face.

"Why won't you tell me?" Damon demanded, his words marred by the growling. "You keep me in the dark about everything. I'm not some damsel in distress!" Damon raised his clenched fist to punch Elijah.

In reaction, Elijah wrapped his hand around Damon's wrist. With one swift move he reversed their positions and grabbed Damon's other wrist. Their faces were inches away. Damon's breath crystallised in front of him, forming delicate cloud patterns. At the move, Elijah witnesses the change come over Damon. His eyes darkened and his body tensed as the vampire within him responded to the dominant move. Damon's fangs peeked from between his lips.

In response to Damon's obvious need, Elijah fought to control his own urges. If they both let go to the vampire, then all the avoidance Elijah had done would be for nothing. But the feel of Damon's body against his, the way he struggled and the feel of his hardness against Elijah's thigh, nearly undid him.

"You know I can't tell you, Damon." At the feel of the other's body, Elijah felt himself quickly hardening. When the other snapped, fangs flashing, Elijah silenced him with a snarl. He placed his own fangs against Damon's neck and the younger vampire soon quietened. "It's for your own good."

As he said the words, Elijah regretted them. Damon was here and compliant. Damon needed it as much as Elijah did. Their bonding would ease the tension that both of them were feeling; Damon more so than Elijah.

"Just give in then," Damon stated slowly, lifting his hips a fraction to meet Elijah's tented trousers. "You can't deny that you want me." At Damon's words, Elijah scraped his fangs along Damon's neck. It should have been a warning; but when did Damon ever heed any warnings given to him? "This is proof." Again his hips tilted up. "Just let your vampire take over for a little while…" Damon's voice seemed like a whisper on the wind, calling and hypnotising Elijah's inner vampire. Elijah couldn't stay here. He couldn't stay this close to Damon. If he did then they would bond once again. And when they did, Damon would know of the threats. And that would cause Klaus to act faster…

Elijah couldn't allow himself to lose them both so soon…

In a single breath, Elijah threw himself away from Damon. When his feet hit the ground, he ran…and left behind a startled, annoyed and aroused younger vampire.

**The Lady in Red**

Never before had he ran from someone or somewhere. But there was always a first time for everything. Elijah had come so close to losing himself to the vampire. If he had then all would be lost.

Despite their clothing, he could still feel the heat from Damon's dominance mark. It called to him more than Damon's tempting whispers had. And coupled with Damon's willingness, Elijah was surprised he'd lasted so long. The vampire within him was angered and annoyed at being denied its rights.

Slowing to a jog, Elijah stopped and rested against the bark of a pine tree. He didn't need the rest, but it allowed him to see if Damon had followed. A few quiet seconds passed and he heard nothing. Good. He was probably too stunned to follow. Only now that he'd stopped, did he become aware of his body's desire. Allowing his fangs to retreat, Elijah slowly freed himself from his trousers.

With one hand he grasped his erect cock. With the other, he braced himself against the tree, his fingernails gouging into the wood. Damon was right, he wanted him. Closing his eyes, he allowed his hand to slowly stroke up and down his cock.

Behind closed eyelids, Elijah imagined how he'd dominate Damon. He'd force the younger vampire to his knees in front of him and force his mouth open. Despite Damon's anger at being submissive, he'd take Elijah's cock into his mouth. Damon's tongue would sweep along the underside of Elijah's cock, taking it further into his mouth.

At the thought, Elijah moaned and his hand tightened around his cock. His thumb ghosted over the tip, smearing pre-cum.

Damon would look up at him through lust filled eyes, his black hair falling into his eyes as he bobbed up and down on Elijah's cock. Damon's hands would come around to grab at Elijah's hips in an effort to stop his thrusts. But Elijah would bat them away. His hands would curl in Damon's thick black hair; Elijah's nails digging into his scalp.

Elijah's fingernails dub into the bark and pieces of wood chipped away beneath his touch. His hand fisted his cock faster, and his moans become lower and his breathing shallow. Never had anyone had this much control over him. The thought of dominating Damon and having the woman looking on caused heat to rekindle in his groin. As he neared his peak, Elijah called on the memories of Damon and his couplings.

The one time where he'd found Damon in the high school attempting to flirt with the new history teacher. When Elijah had seen him, he'd fucked Damon over the desk as they both drank the teacher's blood. Damon had never been as loud as he had been then. Possessiveness and jealousy had ruled that coupling. The desk had inched back and forth with the force of their bonding, squeaking as it moved over the laminate flooring.

Or the time when he had tied Damon to the bed with Vervain strengthened ropes. Damon had been angered at being taken when he was unaware. The younger vampire had growled obscenities at Elijah though they'd soon stopped once Damon had been gagged. That had been the only time when Elijah had let his vampire have free reign. Afterwards, Damon's body had been covered in bite marks; some fresh, others fading. But the ones on his left hip hadn't healed properly. They had scarred.

Flicking his wrist, Elijah moaned when his memories became too much. He imagined sinking into Damon's tight heat, squeezing his cock with his hand at the same time, and the way Damon would buck beneath him, telling Elijah that he needed more…

With a stifled moan, Elijah came over his own hand. Pieces of bark crumbled beneath his fingertips. For a few seconds, he allowed himself to rest against the tree as the blissfulness of the climax washed over him. Once recovered, Elijah tucked himself away and wiped his hand on the long grass at his feet.

Yes. Damon had been right.

Elijah wanted him.

**Lady in Red**

Damon slammed the door shut as he stalked through the house. He couldn't fucking believe it! He'd actually _gone_ to Elijah and put himself out on the line. And he'd still been refused! With a growl, he launched Elijah's jacket onto the fire.

The flames immediately took to the jacket. They danced over the sleeves, slowly prying the seams of the expensive fabric apart. Shadows were cast out, flickering over Damon's pale yet perfect features. With dark, cold eyes he watched as the jacket charred beneath the hungry fingers of the flames. If only memories were that easily destroyed…

Turning away from the fire, Damon grabbed the first thing that was within reach. The Bourbon. Launching it across the room, it shattered above the fire, the droplets causing the fire to explode furiously, and echoing Damon's own frustration. As soon as the glass was free of his hand, Damon grabbed the table and it soon followed the Bourbon's path. Within seconds it shattered against the wall.

How could he have been so fucking stupid? He'd actually trusted the elder vampire, and now what? Elijah couldn't even fucking trust him enough to tell him why!

"Damon?" A soft voice called from the arch way. "Calm down."

At the sound of her voice, Damon's hands paused on the back of a wooden chair. It was spare. For now. Lifting his head, he was met with an unexpected sight.

She was leaned against the wall, her ample breast straining and pushing against the fabric of her tank top. Even with the heat of the fire, her nipples pebbled beneath the white material. Her black shorts encased her thighs and kept little to the imagination. The fire light cast a shadow of her to the side, showing her hips, narrow waist and bust…

"I know exactly what you need. I can't be what he it to you; but I can help you get him back."

**Lady in Red**

You'd seen Elijah react like this in certain ways before – especially when angered or upset. And now Damon was both. Just like Elijah, he needed to set his vampire free. And in what better way than through sex and blood? And just like you'd said, you'd help him to gain Elijah as well.

As you spoke, Damon looked upon you with cold, midnight eyes that slowly filled with lust. It would only be seconds before he would snap and give in. "I know what you need, Damon," you whispered seductively. Your hand trails down your body, tugging at the edge of your tank top.

In front of you, Damon swallows and you watch his will crumple. The veins around his eyes darken and his fangs extend like twin knives. He walks towards you slowly, stalking you as he would prey. But you don't move. You and Elijah have played this so many times that you know what to do and what not to do.

"Don't just circle me, Damon. You know what you want, and I am willing." You giggle for a second as Damon pauses. Now he's listening to you. Next you say the words that will ensnare him. "You can dominate me, Damon. Dominate me in ways you never could with him. Do whatever you wish to me. Fuck me and feed from me. I want you like I've never wanted anyone else."

You push the right leg of your shorts up and to the side, exposing your neatly trimmed pussy. Under Damon's heated gaze, you stroke yourself with one finger. You lean against the door as your finger trails over your pussy, your wetness glistening in the fire light. Damon's ebony eyes darken further when you slowly slip a finger inside yourself. A shudder runs through your body and you close your eyes. There's a slight shift in the air, detectable only because you've been around vampires for years, and you know Damon is in front of you. Without opening your eyes, you pull your finger from yourself and raise it to your lips. Parting your lips sensually, you take the single digit into your lips.

The tangy taste erupts over your taste buds. You pretend it's Damon's cock, slowly trailing your tongue lazily back and forth. Slowly you trail your tongue over your fingernail to the soft pad beneath it. Seconds pass and your finger is finally free of your juices. You open your eyes to see Damon's focussed intently on you. If it had been anyone else, they'd have flushed beneath his gaze. But not you.

"Turn around." Damon's voice is low and commanding. You wink at him as you follow his orders. His cool hands come to rest on your hips, his grip tight enough to bruise. You place your hands on the wall, bracing yourself for his cock. But instead you get pain.

_Crack!_

_ Crack!_

Damon's hand connects with your arse, the sound vibrating around the room. The pain spreads sharply over your buttocks but it dulls within seconds. Yet you push your hips out, offering yourself to Damon for more.

_Crack!_

_ Crack!_

You grunt lowly beneath each of Damon's spanks. With each on you rock forward, the wall the only thing keeping you up. But you love the pain. You become wetter with every crack of his hand on your skin. Juices trickle down your thighs, glistening in the fire light. Beside you your shadow rocks with you and you watch the domineering figure of Damon behind you.

"Such a good fucking slut, aren't you? You live to be dominated." From his tone alone you know that the viper is free. Damon's voice is rough, his English accent flowing freely. He stops the spanking for a little while and instead his fingers seek the opening of your pussy and push your shorts to the side.

Behind you, Damon moans as your wetness coats his fingers. "God, only a whore can be this wet after a spanking." When Damon takes his fingers away, you whimper without his touch. You wonder if it's like this for Damon and Elijah. Does Damon crave Elijah's touch the same way you crave Damon's?

Your shorts are suddenly ripped from your body, the fabric tearing easily under Damon's skilful hands. Within moments Damon's belt buckle is undone and his jeans are around his ankles. His hands rest on your hips and brief pain shoots through your hips. And then his cock is at your pussy.

Damon gives you no time to adjust yourself. Instead he slams into you with one swift motion, going balls deep in your hot, wet pussy. You moan as Damon's cock stretch you to your limit. "Oh fuck, Damon!"

His hand comes forward to curl in your hair and pull your head to the side so he can see your eyes as he fucks you. Ebony black meet yours in a frenzied lust. A low growl comes from his chest and his fangs lengthen as he thrusts into you again. You push back against his hips, in time with his beat which causes his cock to go deeper. With every movement he hits your sweet spot causing you to moan and whimper.

"God, look at you!" Damon's hand tightens in your hair. "Such a good fucking slut." With every word he thrusts harder. Your body moves back and forth as you rock on your heels with the force. "Beg for it!" With every thrust, a wet noise fills the room.

"Please, fuck me, Damon!" You cry as he continues to thrust into you without mercy.

He growls behind you, his hand bruising your hip. "Beg for it, bitch!"

"Fuck, Damon! Please, fuck me! I need your cock in my tight little pussy!" When he hears your words, he speeds up his lazy thrusts. The heat from your coupling and the fire causes sweat to break out across your back. From the corner of your eye you see Damon's chest glistening with beads of sweat. It emphasises the contours of his muscles.

Your breasts push against your tank top, straining and aching for his attention. But he gives them none. Instead you hear him spit, right before Damon's saliva hits your ass. You moan as Damon pulls from you, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot.

Damon's hand unravels from your hair and your head flops forward. You breathe deeply to prepare yourself for his cock again. One hand rests on your pussy, a finger seeking and rubbing roughly against your clit. The other spreads your ass cheeks. As one finger circles your clit, Damon puts the head of his cock at your ass.

You can't help but moan as his cock, lubricated by your own wet juices, slides easily past the first ring of muscle. He fills you again, but this time it seems more than before. You move back against him, eagerly opening your ass to allow him more movement. "Oh, God! Fuck me! I want your big, thick cock in my ass!"

He moves slightly slower this time and his hand comes down to hit your ass again with a sudden crack. Loud, primal growls vibrate from Damon's chest and you know now that he's too far gone for talk. All that matters is that he claims you. Behind you, his fangs sharpen, readying for the final bite.

Your ass clamps over his cock, refusing to set it free until you've come. As if Damon knows this, his fingers massage your clit, forcing whimpers from your parted lips. With his cock and his fingers on you and in you, it causes heat to build up in your hips and across your stomach.

Both of your moans fill the room and you see that Damon has his head thrown back in ecstasy, his eyes midnight black. Fire spreads through your body, setting each nerve alight with desire and lust. It won't be long. Determined to bring Damon to the brink soon, you clench your arse around his cock. Judging by his answering groan you've done the right thing.

The hand on your arse moves to brush your hair over one shoulder, exposing the pale column of flesh that is your neck. Damon's body bows over you, his muscles brushing the skin of your back. He goes as if to nuzzle your neck but you're not fooled. His fangs scrape lightly over your neck, searching for your pulse point…

You gasp as Damon finally sinks his fangs into your soft flesh. Almost instantly the pull on your blood starts. A slight dizzy yet pleasant feeling washes over you, calming your erratic heartbeat but causing you to moan in pleasure at the same time.

The tingling in your body increases and Damon senses this. His fingers roughly flick your clit as his cock goes deeper. The mixture of slight pain and passion is all that's needed to push you over the edge. Your muscles contract with your climax, pushing Damon to the edge. You barely hear his moans, too trapped within your own blissfully ignorant world.

Moments pass before Damon unlatches his fangs from your pulse, his tongue skimming the surface to heal the small cuts. After that, he pulls out of you and stands, offering you a hand to pull you around.

When you face him, you know that he's Damon again. The vampire within him has retreated for the time being. His eyes have the same sparkle that you saw when you first met him. No longer is he filled with anger at Elijah…

"Sorry about that," Damon clears his throat and you know straight away that he's not used to apologising. "I should have asked, but you know… Vampy took over." He winks before disappearing, only to return in a bath robe with another clutched in his hand. With a tenderness that he lacked moments ago, he wraps it around your shoulders. "Do I want to know how you knew all that? Any normal woman would have run screaming as soon as the Bourbon glass smashed."

"I'm used to vampires." You tie the robe around you, securing it in place. "Or should I say Originals."

At your words Damon's eyes dim a little but he stays focussed on you. "Tell me how I can get his attention long enough for him to stay."

"The only reason Elijah would run is if there's a threat come for either you or me. We've got to find out what that threat is."

**Lady in Red**

Elijah stood outside the country home where he resided. He had numerous quiet, secluded spots throughout the world. But he favoured this one the most.

The lawns were neatly trimmed and hedge rows bordered the gardens. Small trees casted large shadows over the green grass and a winding stream sliced through the middle of the garden. Small birds silenced as Elijah grew nearer, warned away by the predatory gleam in his eyes.

He couldn't focus on the scenery around him. That was nothing. Nothing compared to the threat that hung above the people he knew. Again and again the note would flash through his mind, reminding him of the limited time he had left. When would Klaus strike? Elijah knew there would be no warning. It would be quick and sudden. They would be gone in a matter of seconds.

And now, more worryingly, there was a new scent to the garden. It was similar to Damon's but darker and a heavy sense of death hung around it. Even the sweet smelling roses couldn't mask the deathly odour.

What was more worrying, was that it definitely wasn't Klaus' scent. It was someone else. So Klaus had someone else doing his work.

Again the note flashed through Elijah's mind like a clap of thunder. There was no hope. Not now. Not now he didn't even know who to look for. But he wouldn't give them both up without a fight…

**Hey up, sorry about the wait! Just finished exams and broke up for the summer! I would love to know what you think, and who do you think the new scent is from? Any ideas about what is going to happen? And condoms/contraception aren't mentioned in here because it says in the second chapter (I think) that nothing will happen from it because Damon's all vamp and hotness ;D **

**Thanks for reading and all your previous reviews! Please continue to read and review! :D xx**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 ** Slash (malexmale) if you don't like it, please skip the flashback! Thanks :D**

Damon looked around the club where it had all started. This was where he had met her, and where he had found Elijah. The scantily clad dancers still moved around their poles and the crowds still jeered and waved money towards them.

Despite Elijah's absence the club carried on as usual.

Sifting through the crowds, Damon easily made his way towards the large doors that separate the club from Elijah's private office. Along the way he bumped into men, and each of the men attempted to shove him back – only to be thrown to the floor with blood seeping from their necks. Who gave a fuck what happened? If someone was coming after him, he might as well give them a trail to follow.

As it happens, nobody screams. Instead they push forward, trampling the bodies, to get closer to the dancers on stage.

Eventually Damon gets to the two large wooden doors. The large chain that goes through them - only there because Elijah is away - easily snaps beneath Damon's fingers. Two steel links fall to the floor. As soon as the doors are open, cool air blows through, cooling Damon's heated skin and sending a breeze through the stifling heat of the club.

Grabbing the remainder of the chain, Damon shuts the door behind him. Immediately the sounds of the club diminish to a dull, annoying background noise. The sound of the air conditioner is barely there, nothing but a buzz in the hallway.

The hallway is just as Damon remembers. The walls are a dull cream, non-threatening and hardly hinting at the danger of being close to Elijah. But the carpet is a deep red, the same colour as spilt blood. Then again, that's probably the reason it's red. It saves a cleaning up job if the spilt drink is the same colour as the carpet. Large chandeliers – much too large for the narrow hallway – throw dim light from their bulbs. They're just another symbol of Elijah's wealth and power.

Many doors lead from the hallway, each one adorning Latin writing. If only Damon had been bothered to learn the language like his father had wanted him to. Oh well. It was hopeless to regret.

He knew instantly when he had reached Elijah's office. The door was made of better wood, stronger, and had the ornate family crest beneath the elegant Latin writing. And Elijah's scent emanated from the room. At first Damon tested the door, not surprised when it's locked. Even Elijah has an odd fondness for human security.

Damon grasps the handle, and with a quick flick of his wrist, the lock unlatches and the door swings open. He steps through, and shuts the door behind him; looping the steel chain through the door handle and a loop in the wall.

The room isn't much different from the one where Damon had first spoken to the woman. The fire is still the main feature of the room but the logs lay perfect on top of the coal, unlit and if the cobwebs decorating them are anything to go by, it has been unlit for quite some time. Instead of the stag head above the fire, it's Elijah's family crest. Its colours are dull in the lack of light but the twin swords on the dark shield glint wickedly in the light. The large chandelier is unlit with the candles all standing perfect.

Damon saw no need to light the candles or even turn on one of the small glass lamps by the door. He could see perfectly well in the low lighting.

She'd sent him here, telling him that whatever Elijah was hiding would mostly be found here. Or at least some sort of clue about it. And at this moment, Damon was willing to do anything to have one night with Elijah – not to mention the rest of eternity. If anything was bound to get the elder's attention it was a breach in privacy. If Damon found a clue then he would be able to hold it against Elijah; and maybe worm his way into helping the Original.

He quickly made his way over to the large Mahogany desk, pushing aside the candles and the red wax that sat beside it. A few short, barely finished documents lined the table and after flicking through them, Damon realised they were just stock takes for the club and numerous accounting details. He pushed them aside without a care.

Next he tried the drawers. There were five in total, each one carved elegantly into the desk with aged silver handles. Surprisingly none were locked. Apparently Elijah thought that no one would be foolish enough to look through his desk.

Pulling open the first drawer, Damon stifled a groan when all he saw were crisp, cream sheets of paper, a few extra quills and a pot of unused in. How did Elijah still manage with old fashioned tools when he could just use an ordinary bic pen? He shoved the draw shut, probably spilling the pot of ink in the process.

He tried the second drawer, only for it to be empty. Just as Damon was about to shut the drawer, he saw the small key stuffed into the corner. It was rusty and looked like it would crumble if Damon touched it.

So he picked it up.

Rust flaked off onto Damon's fingers, coating them in coppery flakes. Why would Elijah try and allow a key to blend in with a drawer? But if it led to anything important then surely would hide it somewhere better? Maybe put it under the sheets of paper in the first drawer? Unless that was what Elijah wanted him to think? If the key was left unattended and not hidden, it would give the impression that it was useless.

This meant it probably was useful. And it demonstrated Elijah's type of logic of putting everything important in fairly obvious places to make it seem less important. But what did it unlock? Or more importantly, where would the locked item be?

For mere quickness through the idea lacked any substantial hope, Damon looked through the three remaining drawers. They all held unimportant things. A knife (which he stole and placed in the loop of his belt. One never knows when he might need such a weapon), more quills and ink and a black book which listed a number of different names and dates. Which Damon later found out were birth and death dates. He chuckled to himself, realising that his ripper of a brother Stefan wasn't the only one sadistic enough to keep track of his kills.

But where, or what, would the key unlock? And more to the point, what would he find when once he unlocked the item? Hopefully some clue as to why Elijah was being to elusive. Stupid, egotistical, hot vampire…

In his own frustration, Damon upturned the desk, sending it flying into the nearby wall. The wood cracked but didn't splinter. He snarled, feeling the vampire within him battering against its metaphorical cage in an effort to release itself. Maybe the vampire part would know? Deciding it was worth a try, Damon slowly allowed the vampire to take over.

In the shine of the thrown desk, he saw his eyes become like midnight and the veins near his eyes darken. His posture seemed to straighten, becoming more dominant and less inclined to take other people's shit. Intimidation rolled from his shoulder's in waves.

He held the key in his hand, refusing to let it go. Even the vampire seemed to realise that it was essential in being able to be with its mate. Well, one of its two mates.

Damon glanced around the room, looking for anywhere that could possibly hide a safe or something of a similar nature. Nowhere obvious seemed to stand out. Until a slither of light from the large glass window danced across the wall. It sliced through the shadows and landed on the family crest above the fire place. The light disappeared behind the shield.

So the shield was clearly hiding something.

Clutching the key, Damon wretched the shield from the wall, tossing it across the room where it collided with the solid door. The chain holding the door shut rattled noisily. Behind it was a small silver door, hardly the size of a postcard. At the sight of it, Damon frowned. What crap could Elijah possibly leave in here? It was hardly big enough for a colony of ants…

Shrugging his shoulders, Damon put the rusty key into the small key hole. When he twisted it, the key did nothing. It was lodged firmly. But a quick punch to the front of the safe and another tug on the key was all it took for the lock to unlatch. Damon heard the bolts turning and the door creaked open slowly, its hinges squealing in protest.

A book was the only thing in the safe.

With a growl of pure rage and frustration, Damon swung the door of the safe back and watched with satisfaction as the rusty old key smacked against the wall. It disintegrated easily, and its pieces crumbled to the floor.

Reaching into the safe, Damon pulled the book out. It was a leather bound book, no title, or if it had it had worn away long ago. Its pages were yellow and crisp and thread of leather bound the book together. Snapping the leather, Damon's eyes widened in shock when he read the first page. Almost immediately the he allowed himself to take control once more, the vampire within him receding.

With a more calm state of mind, Damon took the book to the window so he could read the faded writing easier.

_July 5__th__ 1870, New York_

_ Today was the first time I've seen him. _

_ A young vampire; dark in both hair and eyes and rash in mind. I've never seen one like him. And I've never felt such a pull to anyone before. No longer will I be able to stay away from him. The very essence of my being calls out to him. Even the thought of staying away, to let him live a life filled with minimal danger, burns at my undead heart. _

_ But to love him, would be to put him in danger. My enemies, my own kin, would hunt him. He would become my weakness. And so far, for so long in my life, I have had no such weakness; how will I ever allow him to have such control over my life? _

_ I have to know him. I know that much is certain. To leave now without even a name would be a foolish thing. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will speak with him, maybe try to tame the rash torrents of thoughts and quick temper that show in his every action. _

_ But to do that, would be to change him. _

_ And why would I change someone such as him?_

Elijah's diary. It had been kept since the very first time he had seen Damon. The book was thick, and obviously stored a lot. The fact that Elijah had thought to documented their meeting made Damon's insides tingle. No, it didn't pull at his heart strings; Damon wasn't as soppy as to believe in that. But it did…things.

Damon skipped through a few more pages.

_July 29__th__ 1870, New York_

_ He's exactly what I thought he would be. After centuries I have tuned myself to know a person's personality, thoughts and actions within a simple second. But Damon Salvatore, he told me his name arrogantly with an eyebrow raised, was different. I could read him, but I could only read what he wanted to show me. _

_ Damon is arrogant. And he has a right to be. No one around him can rival him; he is the best of the best; smart, handsome and with a confidence that even exceeds Kol's. He still thinks no one can rival him. But he's wrong. _

_ I do, and I will take everything from him._

_ And I will enjoy it as I strip him down to his barest of instincts._

_ In the end, Damon Salvatore will be mine. _

Damon turned a few more pages, his mind thrumming, as he learned more and more of Elijah's thoughts.

So Elijah had known. From the very instant he had seen Damon, he had known he was his to possess and control. At the thought, the dominance mark on Damon's left hip began to tingle; in need of Elijah's touch. Damon gripped the diary in one hand, while his other drifted to lie atop the mark. Shifting through a few more pages, Damon's eyes lit up when he saw the date.

_December 11__th__ 1884, London_

_ For fourteen years I have followed him, courted him, protected him and laid claim to him. To a vampire, fourteen years is nothing. Nothing but a blink of an eye. And Damon knows this. _

_ He taunted me, smirked at me, as he played his little game – only now is he aware of who is in control. _

_ I marked him. I gave control over to the vampire, and I marked him. My mark will be forever branded on his skin, his left hip, a constant reminder of who he belongs to. _

_ Damon fought. He did. But he's young; he still believes the training that the military gave him would suffice in the vampire world. I played with him, entertained him, for a little while but my need grew, as did his. And as his need mounted, Damon became foolish. _

_ And it was in one of those foolish, young, moments, that he gave himself to me. Soon he was beneath me – still attempting to struggle though my body pinned his to the ground – and then, after fourteen years, Damon became mine. _

Damon growled lightly as he thought back that very date. It was ingrained in his memory.

_Flashback_

_ Damon struggled beneath the elder vampire, wanting to escape but not wanting to leave. Never had he been dominated in such a way. Every inch of Elijah's skin pressed against his own, the elder's growing arousal pressing enticingly against the cleft of his buttocks. _

_ The hand in his hair tightened to an almost painful grip, pressing the side of his face into the leaves. The other hand was on his hip, his right, and pushed his hips into the ground; the soft moss on the floor rubbing against Damon's own erection. _

_ Once again he tried to buck beneath the vampire, only to no avail. _

_ "Stop struggling, young one," Elijah whispered against his neck. The elder's fangs scraped his flesh and Damon had to stop a shiver from going down his spine. "Give in. You know you want to. You know who your betters are." Damon felt Elijah's hand leave his hair and heard the audible crunch as the Original bit into his own wrist. _

_ Try as he might, Damon couldn't help the small snarl of hunger that came with the smell of blood. Still only a twenty year old vampire, he couldn't control his bloodlust as much as Elijah. And when the bitten wrist was put in front of his mouth, Damon gave into his own urges. _

_ His teeth clamped around the wrist, sinking in to the bite marks that were already there. Blood filled his mouth, like nothing he had ever tasted before, an explosion upon his tongue. Greedily, he lapped at Elijah's blood, unaware of the murmur of bonding spells that the elder was muttering. As much as Damon hated to admit it, a small whimper of loss left his bloodied lips when the wrist healed. _

_ Suddenly he was flipped onto his back, Elijah's strength exceeding his own. Damon looked up at the elder vampire whose eyes were clouded with lust and whose hair fell over his eyes in stands. Elijah's fangs were down like twin blades and blood coated his mouth from where he had bitten himself. But unlike Damon, his eyes held a trace of humanity and the veins beneath his eyes had yet to show. _

_ Somehow, Elijah still had control over himself. _

_ And for that, Damon hated him. _

_ He turned his head away, focussing instead on the copper leaves that lay about him. How humiliating it was to lie beneath another, but to then have lost complete control? But Damon found his eyes straying. And the smirk on the elder's lips told Damon that Elijah knew. Elijah had seen him glancing over his broad, pale shoulders and down his muscular torso to the jutting erection that brushed Damon's own with a strange tenderness. _

_ As if sensing the younger's apprehension, Elijah murmured against Damon's skin, "Just let go. You're a free spirit. No one should ever tame you. Not even yourself." _

_ And so Damon had given into his instincts. His hips pushed up to meet Elijah's, a panting breath stuttering every time their erection's brushed. And with that instinct, came the need to feed. And blood still covered Elijah's mouth. _

_ Their lips met in a frenzied kiss as Damon attempted to lap away the blood on Elijah's mouth. But soon enough, Elijah had mastered Damon. His tongue mapped out the younger's mouth and their fangs clashed. Damon's hands came up to Elijah's shoulders, his nails scraping down the elder's muscular back and leaving ribbons of blood in their wake. In return Elijah ground his hips down on Damon's, trapping the younger's weeping organ between their bodies. _

_ When Elijah had been cleaned of the blood on his lips, Damon broke away with a gasp, his lips slightly swollen and his eyes dark with lust. As if it had just occurred to him what had happened, Damon growled lowly in defiance. _

_ A sharp growl from Elijah soon ended his defiance. _

_ And then Elijah began to work his way down Damon's body. His fangs danced across Damon's heated skin and over the contours of his chest. The Original's eyes never left Damon's; instead they were constantly locked on the vampire beneath him. When Damon impatiently bucked his hips again, Elijah forcibly pushed his hips down. _

_ Elijah would always be in control. And Damon could only imagine being the dominant. _

_ He gasped when Elijah's lips wrapped around his aching cock, his tongue already beginning to ghost over the tip. Elijah's eyes were always locked on Damon's, even when stands of brown hair fell in front of his eyes. The tongue that taunted him teased the slit at the end of his cock and a build-up of sensations began to occur. Again and again Elijah pulled his head back, only to take in another inch of Damon's cock, determined to show the younger how he could control him; mind, body and soul. _

_ Elijah's hands grasped Damon's hips in a bruising hold, forcing the younger's body into the soft moss and leaves. He growled low in his throat, the vibrations tightening around Damon's cock making the younger clench his hands in the leaves beneath him. Only breathless pants left Damon, nothing coherent. _

_ Damon had never felt anything like it. Never had Katherine or any other female done this to him. None of them had made him lie back and allow them to be dominant. None of them had taken control so easily, demanding and using Damon's body as they saw fit. _

_ He felt the tingling increase. He felt the electricity running through every nerve in his body. As if he knew this, Elijah swallowed round Damon's cock, drawing the younger further into his mouth. When Damon groaned, Elijah's mouth left his cock. _

_ At the feeling of cool air on his cock, Damon pushed himself up so he was looking down on the elder vampire. A disgruntled look flowered on Damon's face. _

_ "Give yourself to me, Damon," Elijah demanded, his fangs flashing wickedly with every word. "Give up control to me. Bind to me and become mine. I can give you anything you could ever want. I can show you the world. Just give in."_

_ And for the first and last time, Damon gave into him. Afterwards, once they were bound, Damon would battle for his own dominance - always trying to get the upper hand on the elder vampire. Each of them would come away beaten and bloody but sated and blissfully unaware. _

_ Damon had allowed Elijah to flip him over and push his legs up, anything to get the release he desperately needed. Elijah's hands raked over Damon's back, his fingernails lightly scratching but not leaving a mark. Again the sound of another bite filled the forest where they lay. Beneath Elijah, Damon growled again as the scent of delicious blood assaulted him. _

_ "Shh," Elijah murmured against his heated skin. "Calm yourself." Before Elijah had finished speaking, a slicked, probably blood covered finger pressed itself into the cleft of Damon's buttocks. At the feeling Damon squirmed slightly but Elijah's persistent words soon stopped him. _

_ When the first finger entered him, Damon growled lightly, the strong smell of blood making him light headed and the need to find release was becoming overwhelming. The finger moved inside him, seeking something out. And when Elijah found it, Damon's breathing stuttered and his eyes widened. Then another finger joined the first, scissoring him before a third soon joined. Moments later, they were all removed and Damon snarled loudly at the loss. _

_ All thoughts had fled him. His entire body thrummed on nervous instinct alone. _

_As a slick, cock head pressed against his entrance, Damon gasped, his eyes closing involuntary. Elijah's hands gripped his hips once more, the elder's breath coming in sharp pants and broken whispers. Unable to take it any longer, Damon had forcibly rocked backwards, taking in the Original vampire's cock in one hard thrust._

_Their moans filled the forest clearing, startling birds from nearby trees. Suddenly a blooded palm was thrust in front of Damon's face and instinct took over. His hands ripped into Elijah's palm and he heard the brief mutter of pain from Elijah. _

_It was like it always was. Even now, the only way Elijah could get Damon to fully submit was the taste of the blood. Through the ritual of feeding it allowed them both to bond and deepen their connection, and allow their raw instincts to take over. As he suckled on Elijah's palm, the elder vampire began to thrust quickly and roughly into him. _

_The sound of slapping skin filled the forest and their groans of pleasure only grew as time passed. As Elijah fell forward, his body moulding to the shape of Damon's, his other hand came to wrap around the younger's straining erection. Both hand and hips moved in time, each thrust punctuated with a strong, well trained stroke of a hand. _

_Elijah continued to pound into him, taking him brutally and raw, nothing humane or loving about their joining. It was purely to bond and to show dominance over the other and profanities slipped from both of their parted lips. For a moment, his hand left Damon's cock and reached forward to entwine his fingers in the younger's raven locks. _

_He yanked Damon's head back and saw his own blood staining the other's lips. Elijah soon claimed him in a violent kiss, taking control almost immediately. Again and again Damon would rock back on him, his moans swallowed by Elijah's mouth that lapped away at the blood in his mouth. _

_Throwing the younger's head forward he returned his wrist to Damon's mouth and his other hand to Damon's cock. In time with each other, they both rocked as Elijah's cock continued to brutally press against Damon's sweet spot. _

_Again the familiar tingling and building of electricity in Damon's body began. He began to thrust back onto Elijah's cock and down again to feel the stroke of the elder's hand. The tightening in his balls continued and the wire in his stomach tightened too. Again and again Elijah pushed him closer to the edge, forcing him to the point of no return. _

_With a shuddering growl, Damon came over Elijah's hand, his legs giving out beneath him as the elder also sought his own release. _

_But Elijah wasn't done yet. He pushed Damon over onto his back and roughly grasped his hips once more. He moved down Damon's body again, not wasting any time. Instead of going to Damon's cock, like he expected, Elijah stopped over his left hip, his fangs gleaming and teeth mere millimetres away from Damon's skin. _

_The blissful ignorance of an orgasm was interrupted as pain laced through Damon's body as Elijah's fangs sunk into his left hip._

_Flashback Over_

Damon barely stifled a growl as his memories flooded his mind. His jeans had become uncomfortable but he had more control now. He wasn't a wanton young vampire whose instincts ruled his every thought and action. He looked back on that coupling, not with regret, but with a wish that he had made Elijah his instead. Or at least put up more of a fight.

So after that bonding, Damon had started to put up a fight.

And Elijah had loved it.

Flicking through the diary again, Damon came to the very last entry.

_March 3__rd__ 2013, Mystic Falls_

_Klaus knows. He knows about them both, and I fear for them. I fear for them so much I dare not even write their names. The note he sent me, mocked me, told me everything he would do. And I can't watch as he takes them, not like he did Damon on the forest floor. _

_So I write to you, Damon, and I hope you tell her, that I am deeply sorry. I know you will find this, and I only hope that you can live without me. Look after her, and leave Virginia. Leave to another country. Another continent. Keep moving and do not stop. He'll always look for you. _

_Elijah Mikaelson._

Damon blinked at the last passage, before reading it again and again. Klaus? Elijah's younger step-brother? Damon frowned as he read it once more. Never before had he regretted sleeping with someone other than Elijah, Elijah did it all the time, but now Klaus obviously had an obsession with both her and Damon. That wasn't good.

Bute surely it would be safer for the three of them to stay together? Instead of Elijah leaving them?

The steel chain on the door rattled before shattering and a familiar scent, so much like his own, yet seeping with darkness filled the room. Damon closed the book slowly, not even bothering to turn around to meet the new comer.

"Hello, brother."

**Hey up! Hope you liked this chapter! I apologise for it all being in Damon's POV but it flowed better and allowed me to get across more of Elijah's feelings and Damon's own thoughts on the matter. Thank you for your reviews on the last chapter and I'd appreciate it if you'd take the time to review again! **

**And I've also started another story (not a PWP) called the Angel of Death. I'd love it if you were to check it out and maybe leave a review or two! **

**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! :D xx**


End file.
